


the only one (is you)

by freyjawriter24



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Asexual Aziraphale (Good Omens), Asexual Character, Asexual Crowley (Good Omens), Asexual Relationship, He/Him Pronouns For Aziraphale (Good Omens), Other, POV Crowley (Good Omens), Sharing a Bed, THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, They/Them Pronouns for Crowley (Good Omens), could be read as otherwise but that's how i wrote them, the intimacy of proximity, they just want to cuddle so! damn! bad!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:48:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28137960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freyjawriter24/pseuds/freyjawriter24
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale have to, for unclear reasons that could probably have been solved by a miracle, share a bed for the night.***Fic written for the prompt "Only One Bed" with the restriction of 500 words max.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 55





	the only one (is you)

**Author's Note:**

> So Ella Watts posted [this](https://twitter.com/GejWatts/status/1338497677852553216) [request](https://twitter.com/GejWatts/status/1338554297479524357) on Twitter, and I couldn't help but give it a go. I'm probably a little late for the deadline, but it is still Thursday, so fingers crossed.
> 
> Either way, enjoy a little bed-sharing between 6000-year-old pining celestials!

Crowley hovered awkwardly, hoping desperately that their sunglasses covered up the fact that they were staring directly at the bed.

The double bed. The only bed. The single, double-sized bed, in the room in which both they and Aziraphale were intending to sleep tonight. _That_ bed.

"Are you ready, my dear?"

Ready. For bed. _That_ bed. With Aziraphale.

"Umm, ahh..." Multiple rogue vowel sounds fought for control, and the demon had to clear their throat to get any actual words out. "Sure, angel."

Aziraphale paused, concerned. His hands were wrapped around several soft-looking folds of pale tartan, which – now Crowley paid attention – looked rather like pyjamas. Aziraphale's pyjamas. That he'd be wearing. In bed. With Crowley.

The demon swallowed, then stepped up. They took off their jacket, snapped into black PJs of their own, and climbed into bed.

Crowley was very aware of the angel's eyes on them, Aziraphale's thumbs anxiously rubbing circles into the soft fabric in his hands. The demon grabbed their phone and started scrolling mindlessly, attempting to exude casualness. This was going to be _fine_ , after all. Nothing to worry about.

Aziraphale, apparently satisfied that the demon was at least mostly alright, disappeared into the en suite to change. Crowley, mostly _not_ alright, put down their phone, removed their sunglasses, and shut their eyes tight. Maybe they could will themself asleep before the angel got back?

No such luck. Crowley was hyper-aware of everything – the barely-perceptible squeak of the bathroom door, the soft noise of carefully-folded clothes on wood, and – of course – the gentle pressure on the mattress as the angel slid beneath the cover.

There was silence for a while. Hours, it felt like, though it may have only been minutes. Crowley kept their eyes shut tight, hoping against hope that they would fall asleep soon and this pointless torture would end.

Then: "Crowley?"

Aziraphale's voice was only a ghost in the dark, the barest whisper of a whisper.

"Yeah, angel?" the demon replied in kind.

There was a pause.

"It's a little cold. Would you..."

Silence again. Crowley wondered whether Aziraphale had dropped off mid-question. "Yes?"

There was a cut-off rush of air – whether sigh or gasp, Crowley wasn't sure.

"Would you..." Aziraphale began again, barely audible. "Would you mind if... I were to, perhaps... hug you?"

Crowley nearly choked. "Not that warm, me," they rasped. "Snake, you know. Cold-blooded."

"Well, then – would you like me to warm you up?"

What could they say to that? Other than –

"Yes. Please."

The duvet shifted, and then – suddenly, wonderfully – there was an angel there, curled around them.

"Is this okay?" he breathed in Crowley's ear.

"God, yes," the demon said, before they could stop themself.

Aziraphale buried his face in Crowley's neck, and the demon could _feel_ the grin. "Good," the angel murmured.

Eventually, they drifted off together – and woke to tangled limbs, pink cheeks, and the hope that maybe, just maybe, they could do that again some time.

**Author's Note:**

> 500 words is hard! I'm surprised by this fact every time I try it. Far too many words were cut in the making of this fic. One of these days I'll figure out how to keep a story short and to-the-point. One day.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] the only one (is you)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28494219) by [Jet_pods (Jetainia)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jetainia/pseuds/Jet_pods)




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